Woke up after dreaming a dream,
Of some sort of Oedipus scheme…
It’s happened before
But one I deplore,
Got a warning in the midst, it wasn’t keen.
I woke up to low blood sugar,
Is that why this dream was a booger?
Can’t always control
What the projectionist rolls,
The subject can be “badder” or “gooder.”
My dreams tend to work ’round a scheme,
Can’t always tell what they mean…
Like driving really far
In an open-front car,
Or with a windshield that never stays clean!
I seem to “prefer” flood waters,
Without the comfort of otters…
While flying aloft
Or driving oft
Through the edges with no sounding spotters.
Entrances and holes become smaller,
Which I wiggle through, growing taller…
One never knows
Where a passage goes,
It changes down each new “holler.”
I see a lot of trains and ships
And people in quick “film clips…”
Mostly on the move,
Little time to soothe
Emotional vict’ries and slips.
The outside observer of dreams
May posit a view on the means…
I sometimes enjoy
Being the little boy,
Depending on the projector-man’s schemes!